


snowflakes and christmas lights

by stylesmakethefight



Series: spider-man au [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Comic Book Violence, Fluff, M/M, NCT Dream Ensemble-centric, Sweet things, but i wanted it to get out by christmas, i missed this universe so much, it's wicked rushed though, markhyuck spiderman au, so here it is!, spider man au, spidey-hyuck but it's christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28326903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesmakethefight/pseuds/stylesmakethefight
Summary: Hyuck is a hero. He's saved the city more times than he can remember. He's been shot at, sliced at, punched, kicked, even had a hallucination drug put into his system, but his greatest obstacle to date it finding a gift for his boyfriend, Mark Lee. Come Christmas Eve, however, and Mark is missing and their friends are this close to lighting the city on fire.alternatively: Mark gets kidnapped on Christmas Eve and Hyuck is pretty awful at giving gifts.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: spider-man au [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969015
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	snowflakes and christmas lights

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas and happy holidays!! i know i'm uploading this real close to the end of christmas (for me, at least. christmas is already over for some of you, and i'm so sorry this is coming out after your christmas celebrations), but it's done wooo!! i took a pause on Fallout to get this out this week, but i'll go back to updating that weekly after this. enjoy this story!!

Christmas in New York was never nothing short of magical, shimmering, and wickedly cold. The lights lining the stores and hotels all downtown in their fantastic reds, blues, whites, and yellows shone brightly with all the merriness they could muster. Giant crystal snowflakes hung over every intersection, candy canes and garlands graced store windows, and sleigh bells chimed somewhere far away over the noise of the never-ending traffic.

All the Christmas spirit in the air and Hyuck still wished he was warm and cozy in his bed back at home. But, _no,_ he was coerced into shopping with Taeyong for the afternoon. He was content on spending his first few days of winter break at home, where the heating was splendid, and snacks were a short step away. But then Taeyong made a puppy face and promised to buy them hot chocolate and here he was, pulling his scarf up around his face as Jack Frost chomped on his nose.

Taeyong emerged from the store, another bag added to his collection that was gripped between all his fingers. Hyuck could have sworn that his brother was leaning to the side due to all the weight. With a grunt he came to a rest on the garden ledge Hyuck was sitting on to rest his poor legs. How Taeyong was still walking was beyond him.

“I think I’m done,” Taeyong said, catching his breath.

“Hyung, you know like four people max,” Hyuck pointed out, draining the last of his beloved hot chocolate. The comment earned him a smack on his arm.

“Which one of us has to come back out into the cold to finish?” Taeyong asked, wrapping his own scarf tightly around his neck.

Hyuck. That’s who. He had gotten gifts for Renjun (a new pack of drawing pens), Jeno (gloves so he would stop complaining about cold fingers), Jaemin (a French to English dictionary. Not Hyuck’s bad gift giving, Jaemin had requested it himself), and for Chenle and Jisung (matching bucket hats. Hyuck thought they would look so cute in them). The only person he hadn’t gotten a gift for yet was Mark Lee.

In retrospect, Mark should have been the easiest person to buy a gift for, but Hyuck passed store after store and nothing was enough to impress Mark. Hyuck wanted something special and so far, he hadn’t found anything.

He scowled at his brother. Taeyong was right. As much as he hated being outside in the cold, it was him who wasn’t completely finished shopping. The worst part? Tomorrow was Christmas.

As if Taeyong read his thoughts, he looked down at Hyuck’s meager two bags of gifts for his friends, small and pitiful in comparison to Taeyong’s shopping hoard. “Mark?” He asked, all too knowing.

Hyuck nodded, defeated. “What am I going to do?” He whined. “Nothing here is going to impress him.”

“Hyuckie,” Taeyong began softly, “I’ve met Mark like twice, and I promise you, no matter what you get him, he’ll be delighted. He’ll find something about it that he’ll genuinely like. And truth be told, as long as you see him tomorrow, I think both of your Christmases will be made.”

“I just want him to like it.”

“You could walk over to his place with a bow in your hair, and he’d still think you’re perfect. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”

Still. It didn’t feel complete without giving Mark a present for Christmas. “I’m going to look around in one of those film stores a few streets down,” Hyuck told Taeyong, pushing off the garden ledge. “I’ll be home later tonight.”

Taeyong readjusted his grip on the many shopping bags. “Okay, don’t be out too late. I’ll leave dinner out if you miss it. And be careful!”

Hyuck flashed him a grin. “When am I not?”

Taeyong opened his mouth to answer.

“Never mind, don’t answer that,” Hyuck called, taking off down the street.

Did Hyuck know the first thing about a camera? No. Did he walk into the first store that had a camera on display? Yes. What could he say, he was getting desperate.

It was an antique store, everything dating back to way before Hyuck was even born. If anything, Mark’s taste in cameras was bound to be rooted in here. Hyuck walked in, breathing in enough dust that he nearly choked on it. Waving his hand to clear some of it away, he immediately went to the display window, proudly showing off a pretty set, with a small lit up Christmas tree and presents littered around its base, including a small camera the size of his hand.

It wasn’t _ancient._ Dated, for sure, but it was more on the industrialized side, with a sleek, angular design around the lens. Its matte black finish dully reflected the lights and the longer Hyuck stared at it, the more vivid the picture of someone’s hands wrapped carefully around this camera formed in his mind. He picked it up, rotating the small device between his fingers. It was going to be this or Hyuck would have to go to Jeno’s Christmas party with nothing to give to Mark. He sent out a prayer to every higher entity asking that Mark would at least be kind to him and accept it at the least.

“Sticky fingers?”

Hyuck jumped, nearly dropping the camera. He whirled around, wondering who else knew his secret, and how to get them to keep their mouths shut about it.

Instead, he was looking up to an older man, a wide smile that de-aged him, and big ears poking out from underneath his wool hat.

“I—I um…I’m not—uh…” Hyuck struggled to find the words. Who was this? How did he know he was Spider-man? Hyuck had never seen this man in his whole life.

The man chuckled. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. Far too many petty teenage thieves down this way, you see.” The man pointed down at the camera clutched tightly in his hands. “May I?”

Hyuck’s shoulders loosened. So the man didn’t know. Okay. It was just a mistake. He gingerly passed the camera over to him.

“A beautiful thing.” The man’s long fingers gracefully flipped the camera over, inspecting every nook and cranny the old thing had to offer.

Hyuck chuckled nervously. “Must be why it’s in the display window.”

The tall man hummed. “I put this camera out on display every year, and every year it gets a blind eye.” He looked Hyuck in the eyes, and Hyuck was mesmerized staring back into those almost magical dark orbs.

“I…um…I guess I saw something worthy in it,” Hyuck managed. It was the truth, he supposed. It was the first thing all day that Hyuck was fully interested in. The camera could be worthy enough for Mark.

The tall man with magical eyes laughed softly. “Or maybe it saw something worthy in you.”

Hyuck didn’t have time to process what the man said. A loud (and embarrassing) “Billie Jean” erupted from his phone. He jumped again, startled by the vibration in his pocket. “Sorry,” He murmured, checking the caller I.D. _Renjeon_ flashed across the lock screen. “Sorry,” He repeated to the tall man, who was already backing away to give him some space. “I have to take this.”

The man smiled kindly again, and Hyuck hurried to the corner of the store, hitting the answer button. “Hey!” He chirped.

“Is Mark with you?” Renjun’s voice was rushed, panicked.

Hyuck frowned. “No? I haven’t seen him all day.”

“Oh my God.”

Hyuck’s hair rose on his arms. “Renjun, why are you asking me? Where is Mark?”

“You need to get to mine. Right now.”

“Renjun, what—” The call clicked off.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong _with Mark_. Hyuck pocketed his phone and bolted out of the store, not even looking back once at the tall man who watched him leave. He darted into the closest alleyway he could find, lifting his arm skyward.

The next thing he knew, he was soaring between the high-rises of New York, shooting web after web. His heart beat wildly in his chest, things moving too fast for him to see clearly. One building after another, he shot and pulled, swinging down avenues and streets.

Renjun lived the closest to the Hudson out of all of them, and normally, Hyuck could tell when he was running out of buildings to swing from. But tonight, it could have been that the river was too dark in the night, or Hyuck’s own panic was messing with what he was seeing, but he must have swung the wrong way.

He managed to tuck his head away, letting his shoulder take the impact as he landed messily onto the concrete. Thankfully, he was aiming low, so the fall wasn’t drastic. But the bruise on his shoulder said otherwise.

The door to the townhouse, decorated with Christmas lights and garlands, swung open before Hyuck even got near the stairs. “Oh, thank God you’re here,” Jaemin said, pulling a stumbling Hyuck into Renjun’s house. They were all there. It must be serious. The fear, heavy in his gut, did not settle.

Jaemin marched them up the stairs, Hyuck barely missing Renjun’s parents sipping wine in front of the television. When Renjun’s bedroom door opened, Hyuck found Renjun and Jeno pacing, Chenle scribbling furiously onto a pad of paper, and Jisung typing away on two laptops, and an iPad.

“What is happening,” he demanded.

“It’s Mark. He’s missing,” Jeno said, stopping his stress walk.

Hyuck’s heart dropped. “What do you mean, _missing_?”

“Kidnapped, actually,” Renjun said with a grimace. “Jeno found this attached to his bike after school.” He passed Hyuck an envelope, and Hyuck opened it with trembling fingers.

_You have twenty-four hours to be at this address with $100,000 dollars. If not, you’ll have to find a new cameraman. The time is ticking._

Below the crude handwriting was an address that Hyuck didn’t recognize. “Where is this.”

“It’s in the north west side of the city,” Jisung supplied. “We looked at the satellite maps, and it’s a half-finished building. Hudson Square. Workers are off for Christmas, so it’s empty tonight.”

“Do you know who took him?” Something was laced in his voice. Something deep, animalistic. Hyuck was near growling, the letter crumpling in his fist.

Renjun must have noticed because he approached Hyuck slowly. “We know what you know. Mark wasn’t picking up our calls all day. Jeno found his bike still at school with the note after his practice. Everyone came here and then we called you soon afterwards.”

The words were barely registering into Hyuck’s head. All he could see was red. His mind was a storm, simultaneously figuring out the fastest way to get to Hudson Square, which one of the city’s petty villains could be behind this, and trying to decide what the odds were that Mark was hurt. Internally, his body felt like he was moving at a thousand miles per hour. He was going to make whoever took Mark pay in the worst ways imaginable. He would tear down any building that was in his way, fling away any vehicle—

“Hyuck.”

Hyuck blinked. Renjun was in his line of sight, gently prying the letter out of his shaking fist. “The address. We need it,” Renjun explained calmly.

“I know you want to get Mark back,” Jeno began with equal calmness. Was Hyuck really about to explode? He felt like it, but surely he had _some_ self-control left. “We do too. But you can’t go in there without a plan.”

“We don’t want a repeat of last time,” Chenle added with a nod. “Will you listen?”

A plan. Right. He could use a plan. He forced out a breath, seeing the others’ shoulders visibly loosen. “Okay. What’s the plan?”

“You go in there and give them everything you’ve got.”

“ _That’s_ the plan?”

“What Chenle means,” Jaemin hissed, glaring at the younger boy, “is that you go in, and distract them just enough for you to understand where they’re keeping Mark, and how many bad guys are we up against.”

Jeno came over to where Jisung was holding up a design plan of Hudson Square and pointed to an edge. “We’ll be here, where most of the interior is built. There are more places to hide and keep low. And if there are any bad guys on the most hidden side, we can warn you.”

“You’re going in?” Hyuck asked incredulously. A bunch of kids up against bad men? It wasn’t going to end well, and Hyuck wasn’t going to let it happen on his watch. “Absolutely no—”

“You’re not our mom, you can’t tell us what to do,” Chenle interrupted. “So don’t even try, Hyuckie.”

“Once you tell us how many people we’re up against, we’ll handle them,” Renjun went on before Hyuck could retaliate. “You need to get Mark out first.”

“Why don’t I just take them all out, _and_ save Mark?” Hyuck questioned, still very hesitant about letting the others fight.

“Because then they’ll know,” Jisung said, and the stillness that followed was heart shattering. “They’ll know you don’t have the money, that you came for a fight. And you’ll never make it to Mark in time.”

He was right. Jisung was right, and Hyuck hated it. This plan was crafted with twigs and some rope. Hyuck was ready to fly in there completely blind, and this plan was a lace blindfold. It didn’t do much in terms of clarity or surety, but it was all he had to work with.

“Hyuck, you have to let us exhaust them and their resources,” Jeno said gently. “We have a plan for it, too. We’ll be okay,” he promised. “Just get to Mark before they do something to him.”

Hyuck bit on his lower lip and nodded. His priority was getting them _all_ out. He’d deal with who exactly these people were later; after everyone he loved was safe. “How am I going to tell you what the place is like?”

Chenle and Jisung exchanged glances. “Well,” Chenle began shyly, sliding off the bed. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present from the both of us, but…” He leaned over the bed and heaved up a large, black briefcase. “Jisung, would you like to do the honors?”

“I’d love to.” Jisung came around and clicked open the latches. Hyuck leaned forward, frowning as he tried to see what was inside. Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun hovered over him, peering over his shoulders to see as well.

Jisung lifted the lid all the way, and Hyuck was staring at a deep blue and a matte red suit with a pair of black, beady eyes staring back at him.

“No way,” He whispered, trailing a finger lightly around the stitchwork.

“ _Yes_ way,” Chenle said with a huge grin on his face. “Say hello to the Limitless Prototype. Built in with all the latest technology, including, but not limited to—” He snapped his fingers.

“Upgraded communication device,” Jisung picked up where Chenle left off without missing a beat. “It’s already synced with our phones. It’s got a better GPS system, one that will warn you of traffic and cop cars on the route. Not that you would need it, but just in case. It carries more web fluid, has heat sensing vision, and the best part?”

“Bluetooth,” The two boys said together.

Suddenly, the two bucket hats Hyuck had preciously picked out looked silly.

“Take it out for a test run today,” Jaemin said with awe in his voice.

“You just want to see him in tight spandex,” Renjun accused, pushing off Hyuck’s back where he had been resting on to see the suit.

“Wrong. I want to see Jeno in tight spandex,” Jaemin declared proudly.

Jisung made a hurling noise. “Wish granted if you stop saying things like that unprovoked.”

“Unprovoked? Renjun was the one throwing accusations around!”

“I’m more of a leather guy myself,” Jeno said, totally putting the conversation back on its strange path.

“Leather. _Leather_.” Renjun buried his head into his hands and groaned.

“Lee Jeno, can you be a more perfect person?” Jaemin asked, staring dreamily into Jeno’s eyes.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Chenle grunted, forcing back a hard swallow. “Can we go get Mark now?”

Hyuck carefully gathered the suit into his arms, excited to try out all the extensions and upgrades. If he was going to save Mark, might as well do it in the most dramatic way possible. “Suit up. We leave in ten minutes.”

Hudson Square was a brief ten-minute swing for Hyuck, but for the others getting there by car, it would take them at least twenty. Which gave Hyuck a ten-minute window to find Mark and get the enemy’s attention. Easier said than done.

“I’m going in,” He spoke quietly, hearing a low buzz that connected his line from the suit to Chenle’s phone.

“We’re a few minutes away,” Came the other boy’s voice stellar clear. Hyuck was impressed by the sound quality. The two were geniuses. “Be careful, Hyuckie. Find Mark first.”

“On it.” Hyuck switched on the heat vision in his goggles, and carefully crept in. There were tall iron pillars, holding up the structure, beams bolted into place every dozen feet or so. Most of the interior was completed, like Jisung had mentioned. They just needed up to put in the lighting and drywall. Dust settled in the air thickly, the remenants of the building process left behind. Piles of wooden rods, tools, more iron beams lay strewn around, untouched for the day and night. Plastic blew in the wind where the workers pinned up sheets of plastic on gaping holes, left open to be filled in with windows.

Hyuck was on high alert, his mind seeking out noises that weren’t natural. Footsteps, voices, metal scraping on metal, anything of the sort. So far, his heat vision goggles weren’t picking up on anything that signified another person.

To the right of him was an opening, leading to a wide, spiraling staircase. Hyuck stood in the center of it, looking up to see where the stairs led to. He squinted, letting the heat vision calibrate to the new scene. There. His goggles picked up traces of yellow and orange. Someone must be up there.

He fired off a web, watching it disappear somewhere into the darkness. He felt it latch onto the banister with a soft thud to his wrist. Slowly, Hyuck pulled, and he scaled the web up the four floors. Each floor he passed looked as empty and desolate as before. A half-finished piece that would remain untouched for a few more hours. As he approached the fourth floor, he paused just beneath where the concrete of the floor began and peered over the ledge.

Bingo.

Mark was there, sitting in a chair, hands bound in front of him. Hyuck looked closer and couldn’t see any wounds on him. A small bruise on his cheek, but that seemed to be it. His eyes were wide open, and Hyuck saw no trace of fear in them. Annoyance, maybe, but Mark wasn’t afraid. Good. They didn’t touch him otherwise. Behind Mark stood two men, faces covered by some cloth, but Hyuck was far more interested in the huge guns in their hands.

He scanned the floor, counting about twelve people and just as many weapons, if not more. He eyed the openings in the walls, city light reaching this edge of the city, a plan coming to mind.

Slowly, he lowered himself back down to third floor, darting to the space where a window would be. “Chenle,” He began softly, “I found him. There’s twelve of them, all on the fourth floor. They might move once I start.”

“Got it,” Chenle replied. “We’re here, backup is right behind you.” A pause, as Hyuck gripped the window ledge above him. “Get him, Hyuckie.”

“That’s the plan.” In one movement, Hyuck curled up, flipping his body over until his feet landed firmly onto the concrete above his head. Soon after, he was crawling up the side of the building, using his fingers and feet to stay glued to the surface. He kept his movements silent, his breaths even. One step after another, he climbed until he reached the fourth floor window. He paused when he heard voices.

“I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me,” Mark was saying. “I only managed to get pictures of him because it’s a crime scene. Sort of like this one.”

“This won’t be a crime scene if he shows up with the money we want,” A man growled.

Mark scoffed, and Hyuck winced. He knew he was bad at keeping his mouth shut at inappropriate times, but Mark? Mark never failed to surprise him. “Kidnapping and keeping someone as hostage _is_ a crime. It’s Christmas Eve, don’t you people have anything better to do?” Mark asked, annoyance all over his voice. And, tiredness too, Hyuck could make out. Mark was all talk now, but he must have been so frightened earlier, and Hyuck felt guilty about letting this happen. After all, bad men tended to have a problem with him, not Hyuck’s friends.

“Do you think your parents want to hear that their overly-talkative son was killed on Christmas day?” The same man asked harshly.

Mark fell silent afterwards. Hyuck braced his feet against the concrete, feeling for that shiver, that instinct, to take over. The feeling he had entrusted countless of times before.

He was just about to push off when he heard a quiet, “He’s not coming with the money.”

“What was that?” A man asked him. Hyuck could see Mark’s killer glare directed at whatever asshole was giving him a hard time.

“I _said,_ ” Mark seethed, “you are not getting a single penny from me, or from him.”

Hyuck leapt off the wall, twisting his body through the open window, and landing in a crouched position before the people in dark masks. “Damn straight. You tell them, Mark.” The smile that grew on Mark’s face was enough to keep Hyuck’s head in the present. He’d deal with guilty feelings later.

“Spider-man,” One of the men, probably the same one who was speaking earlier, whispered. “We had a deal.”

“A deal requires an agreement,” Hyuck said, shooting a web past him. It landed on one of those iron beams, and Hyuck yanked on it hard. “And last I checked, I didn’t shake on shit.” The beam came flying through the air, hitting two of the bag guys in the back of their heads. Hyuck watched them crumple to the floor before he shot up, a web attached to the exposed pipelines above them.

With his other wrist, Hyuck’s focus turned onto the open muzzles of the guns. In quick succession, he shot off a few patches of sticky webs, clogging up the weapons before they were even fired. He landed in front of the big man, the one who was talking. His fist launched forward, and he let his body move.

Punch after punch, he kept four of the bad guys busy, dodging swings, and knocking out their feet from beneath them. Web fluid flew everywhere, redirecting aims of guns and blinding some of the others too far for Hyuck’s kick to reach.

“Get the fuck away from me!”

Hyuck used the momentum of a swing to kick someone far enough away that they turned over a neat pile of wooden planks. He twisted around to the source of the sound.

Mark had his back to the wall, a woman with a knife approaching him. Hyuck moved.

He used the pipelines again, swinging high above everyone. Before dropping, he ripped off one of the pipes. A second later, that pipe crashed into the woman’s skull, and she toppled over. Hyuck was in her place a moment later.

“Hey,” He whispered, scanning Mark for any other injuries he might have missed.

“What took you so long?” Mark shot back.

 _Christmas shopping. For you,_ Hyuck wanted to say, but someone grunted too close for his liking. “I’m so sorry,” He got out. “Jaemin, I hope you’re there.”

“Jaemin? The others are here?” Hyuck ushered Mark to the window. “Wait, Hyuck, what are you doing?” Mark shrieked, seeing the height they were at.

“Listen, I have to take care of this. You’ll be fine, I promise.” Hyuck said hastily. “Love you. See you soon.”

“Hyuck, don’t you _dare_ —”

Hyuck pushed Mark out the window space, a web sticking to Mark’s chest and to the wall of the building. Mark’s screams faded out once he realized that he wasn’t pummeling to his death. Hyuck turned around to face the remaining bad guys. The sound of a car door slamming told him that Mark was safely in the car with Jaemin.

Six. There were still six of them, all armed, and all closing in on Hyuck, who only had a window space to back into. Or out of. The odds were looking slim. He crouched low, getting ready to jump away, looking for other things to use as weapons.

And then he heard it.

A low buzzing sound, like a fly that was getting louder and louder as it got closer.

“Is this the back up?” He asked to whoever was on the line.

“Oh, _yes._ ” Jisung was ecstatic, and Hyuck could imagine the bright smile he had on his face as he said it.

Two drones steadily rose over the staircase, and Hyuck could see GoPro’s crudely taped to the top of the drones. The kids were geniuses, but also idiots. Hyuck never understood how they could be both at the same time.

The drones began shooting out webs, short splotches of it, getting some of the bad guys in the face, or sticking to their shoes and causing them to trip. Hyuck jumped into action.

He used the iron pillars that were already up as platforms to push off. He flipped through the air, grabbing a wooden plank mid-air, and used his momentum to hurl it at two more gunmen. The wood splintered upon impact, and the two collapsed. Hyuck barely had the time to duck when someone else swung with a knife. He felt the blade slice through the air above him as he shot back up to his feet.

“What’s the $100,000 for?” He asked, fists up and in a fighting stance. The two drones were doing a nice job on sticking the other bad guys to walls, preventing them from moving so the police could come and collect them later.

“Take a wild guess,” The man replied, darting forward and swinging the knife again.

Hyuck dodged and spun around. He lashed out with his heel and knocked the blade from the man’s hand. “Which corporation is paying you?” He demanded instead.

The man’s eyes glinted in the dim light. “Not a corporation. One man.”

Hyuck lunged, grabbing the front of the man’s shirt and pulled him close. “Who,” He ground out. It wasn’t Wayv, that was a closed book. Kun wouldn’t do something like this. So who else had this sort of budget?

“Sho—”

There was a loud clang, and the man’s head jerked to the side before falling limp. Hyuck was carrying dead weight in his arms. He dropped the man, and there stood a tiny Renjun, a metal rod clutched in his hands.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long while.”

“To me, or to someone else?” Hyuck asked, bending down to check the body. Maybe the man was carrying something on him that would give Hyuck a hint.

“Anyone, but it would have been a bonus if it was you,” Renjun said with a shrug.

“Renjun, I am so happy you walked into my life,” Hyuck said with faux happiness, digging into the man’s pockets. Nothing. There wasn’t even a wallet.

Renjun scoffed. “You’d run into light poles without me.” He toed the man’s arm. “Check his wrist. Jeno noticed a tattoo on all the others.”

Hyuck yanked up the sleeve of the man. A dark circle with a vertical arrow pointing downward in the center stood out starkly against the man’s skin. He frowned. “If all of them had a marking like that, then this wasn’t just any major public corporation. This had to be the work of a third-party.”

Renjun nodded, mouth set in a straight line. “Organized crime. Black market shit.”

Hyuck dropped the man’s limp wrist and stood up. “Well, looks like we have trail to follow. After Christmas, though. The suit is sick, but I’m not trying to put it on until after the New Year.”

“I can toast to that,” Renjun said, patting his back. “Come on, Jaemin has the car running for us.”

“Hyuck!”

Mark left the car and rushed out. Hyuck tore off his mask, knowing his face was flushed from the fight and his hair was sticking up in every which way. “Are you okay?” He asked as Mark ran into his open arms. Hyuck breathed out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes against Mark’s hair. They were safe. They all made it out alive and unharmed. Talk about a Christmas miracle.

“You have to stop asking me that.” Mark said into his back, and Hyuck felt the vibrations of Mark’s voice in his own body. It sent a nice chill up his spine.

“I did push you out the window,” He pointed out.

“Right.”

“Ow!” Pain flared up his toes and he pulled away from Mark, lifting up his foot to cradle his poor toes. “What was that for?”

“You _pushed me out of a window_!”

“To save you!”

“I could have done something myself,” Mark grumbled, a pout forming on his lips. A pout that Hyuck wanted to kiss away, but he restrained himself from doing so.

“Don’t get kidnapped next time,” Hyuck said, holding Mark’s hand a little more tightly.

“I can’t exactly control that—”

“Mark, I’m serious.” Hyuck willed every ounce of seriousness he could muster into his voice. “I didn’t even know what happened until Renjun called, and if I was too late, then—”

“But you weren’t,” Mark interrupted. “Yeah, being held hostage by some strange men was scary, but you know what got me through it?” Mark leaned in, wrapping his arms around Hyuck again, and Hyuck nearly melted right there. “I _knew_ you would come. Not for a second did I ever think you wouldn’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered, trying and failing to keep the voice crack out of his words. “They were after me, not you. You should have never been in that situation, and it’s my fault—”

“Hyuck, keep talking, and I’ll let Jeno step on all your toes.”

Hyuck looked at Mark, at the genuine smile spreading on his face, the way his eyes reflected the Christmas lights of the city, and the way their fingers were intertwined. “I know I keep the city safe, but I don’t…I wouldn’t know…” He trailed off with a sigh. He’d pick Mark over anything else. Over and over again. No hesitation. But what if he couldn’t? What if he wasn’t _good enough_? What if tonight ended differently?

“I see you thinking,” Mark began, running a hand through Hyuck’s disheveled hair. “Do you remember what I told you when I first found out you’re Spiderman?”

Hyuck racked his brain, the puzzling look showing on his face. “I only remember Taeyong saying that my cooking had the capability to poison.” Mark said a lot of things that day on the balcony, and Hyuck’s head was running on rocket fuel. He’d have to think very hard to remember what exactly Mark was talking about.

Mark, for his part, smacked Hyuck’s chest. “I said I knew who Lee Donghyuck was.”

 _Right. Right._ How could he have forgotten?

Mark continued. “I know who you are, Hyuck. I know you have a heart bigger than the size of your whole body. I know you’re stubborn as _hell_. And I know that you are the best version of yourself. That you always give you hundred percent.” Mark’s hands found themselves on either side of Hyuck’s face, squishing his cheeks in. “Tonight wasn’t your fault. I need you to understand that. Don’t blame yourself.”

Hyuck gently took Mark’s hands again, warmth spreading through his fingertips. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” He whispered, afraid, _afraid,_ of the ‘what if’ scenarios floating around in his head. Each thought was more devastating than the last, and the common denominator was that Hyuck was too late, that he wasn’t good enough.

Mark grinned. And Hyuck swore that the exact moment Mark smiled, the first dusty snowflakes began to fall. “You’re not losing me that easily.” Mark held up a pinky while Hyuck stared at the pretty white settling onto his dark hair. It reminded him of fairy lights, sparkling with icy colors, weaving in and out of Mark’s hair.

Hyuck let out a small smile, lifting up his pinky too. “Promise?”

Mark shook pinkies, and Hyuck let the chill of New York in December coat his body in the best way possible.

It wasn’t an alarm that woke him up the next morning. It wasn’t the birds chirping outside, nor was it the sun dripping into his room.

Hyuck woke up to his brother blasting “All I Want For Christmas” from the living room. He groaned and forced himself up. Christmas day. Right. He didn’t really have an excuse to sleep in. Last night’s rescue had them all home before midnight, but Hyuck felt the dull aches from the remnants of the fight.

Ignoring them, he washed up, put on a warm hoodie, and even wrapped a huge blanket around himself before stepping out into the living room. Decorating the apartment was a team effort. Taeyong had a vision and Hyuck helped bring it to life. Garlands lined doorways and counter edges. Little reindeer and snowman dolls sat comfortably on the coffee table and on the kitchen counter. They hung up all the Christmas card on the fridge, and in the center of the living room sat their tree. This year, they agreed to have a silver and dark blue theme. So, the ornaments ranged from various shades of silver and hues of blue, some traditional balls, others shapes of snowflakes or sleigh bells. All of it was neatly held together with a long silver ribbon, twirled around the tree from top to bottom.

“Merry Christmas, Hyuckie!” Taeyong chirped happily, bringing two cups of what Hyuck thought was hot cocoa to the coffee table.

Hyuck took a mug, the smell of chocolate filling his nostrils. “Merry Christmas, Hyung!” He clinked his glass and took a big sip of rich chocolate and milk. He held back a moan of satisfaction. Taeyong always knew the secret to the best hot cocoa.

Taeyong pulled out a neatly wrapped gift from under the tree. “For you. Obviously.”

Haechan pulled out his gift to Taeyong, not as neatly wrapped, but it did the job. He passed it over. “And for you. Obviously,” He tacked on, with a cheeky grin.

Taeyong was over the moon excited for his new collection of kitchen knives Hyuck had bought him. Hyuck was proud of the purchase. Taeyong mentioned wanting a new set only like, two hundred times.

Hyuck was gifted a dozen Michael Jackson vinyl, complete with the aged covers and the original concert dates. Taeyong had beamed when Hyuck shrieked at the sight of them. He was going to build a shelf just for them. Renjun might tease him for his obsession, but MJ was the King of Pop. No one was arguing about that. And, besides, Mark would—

“Shit. _Shit_.” Hyuck sprang up to his feet.

“Woah, language,” His brother chastised. “What’s wrong?”

“I never got Mark’s gift.” He paled. 

Taeyong frowned. “You were gone for hours yesterday, I figured you had finally found something.”

“I…” Hyuck thought back to the vintage film camera he was going to buy before he got Renjun’s call. “I did find something, but I don’t even know if it’s still there,” He mourned. He should have just bought the thing yesterday. _Why_ did he have the worst luck?

“You remember the store?”

Hyuck nodded.

“Go check,” Taeyong suggested. “Stores shut down early last night and you were out well after closing time.” He glanced at the clock. “And it’s still pretty early. You can make it.”

“Okay, okay.” Hyuck hurried to his room to get dressed.

“Uncle Taeil, Jungwoo, Jaehyun, Yuta and Doyoung are coming over for dinner tonight,” Taeyong called as Hyuck struggled to put on his shoes. “Be home by then, Uncle Taeil wanted you to open his gift in front of him.”

Hyuck slipped on his coat, grabbing his friends’ gifts. “It’s just the latest PlayStation game. I sent him a link to order it for me.”

Taeyong scratched at the back of his head. “That’s not really a surprise is it.”

“Not really. Good thing I’m an amazing actor.” He threw Taeyong a wink before slipping out the door. “I’ll be home by then! See you!”

Hyuck raced down the avenue. It had snowed hard last night and most of it was piled onto the sidewalks which made walking, let alone running, harder. Still, with gritted teeth, Hyuck hurried down the street, the shiny ornaments and decorations still gleaming in the morning light. Inflatables of Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Reindeer blew up to life, waving from their positions in front of other shops. Hyuck saw a glimpse of Rockefeller, the massive tree with what looked like a million red and gold ornaments spilling down the side of the green, still lit up from the night before. 

He dodged the few people out on the streets on Christmas morning, ducking and spinning out of the way. Finally, he saw the film shop. His heart sank a little when he darted by and saw that the camera from before wasn’t in its usual spot in the display window.

He threw open the doors of the little warm shop, aiming straight for the display. Panting, he scanned the set. The mini tree was still there, as well as the presents littered around the base. But no sign of the camera.

Hyuck was too late. He must have missed his chance, and someone else had come in and bought the camera. His shoulders slumped. Now what? Where was he going to get a gift?

“Morning, Sticky Fingers.”

Hyuck whirled and was once again, looking up at the tall man with the big ears. “Oh. Um…Merry Christmas, sir,” He said respectfully.

“Merry Christmas, boy,” The man replied cheerily. “I assume you were looking for the camera?” He gave a pointed look to the display set.

“Oh! Yes, I was, but it’s alright if you’ve sold it,” Hyuck began, but was cut off as the man waved his long, elegant fingers.

“I had a feeling you’d be back.” He pointed to where a box, perfectly wrapped with a bow on top sat. “No need to pay. She’s all yours.”

Hyuck could _feel_ the merry in the air. He stared at the box, approaching it slowly. The man had saved it for him. How was Hyuck ever going to repay him? There was a little white folded note tucked in with the ribbon. Hyuck slid it out and read the loopy handwriting.

_To our city’s savior, a boy whose heart will forever grow._

_Merry Christmas! I wish for this Christmas, you will set aside the suit and be who you truly are. A hero with a mask and without._

_\--PCY_

Hyuck’s heart stopped. “Hey, I think you have the wrong—” He turned around to find no one. The man was gone.

“Took you long enough,” Renjun’s first words to him on Christmas. Typical.

“Merry Christmas, Renjunnie, light of my life,” Hyuck crooned, passing on the bag of presents he had managed to haul over to Jeno’s place.

“You forgot to get Mark a gift?” Jaemin asked, popping out of nowhere.

Hyuck froze, only for a second. How did Jaemin figure it out? “No,” He began cautiously. “I got Mark something.”

“ _Today_ ,” Jaemin sang, knowing the truth. “Worst boyfriend ever.”

“Cut him some slack,” Jeno pitched in, leading them all to the wide-open living room of his house. “He saved Mark last night, I think that makes him the best boyfriend ever.” A tree stood by the fireplace, wrapped in tinsel and ribbons, with little candy canes hanging off the branches. Beneath it sat Chenle, Jisung, and…

“Hey, Mark.” Hyuck was breathless. Why was he so breathless? It had _nothing_ to do with the reindeer headband that had found its way onto Mark’s head. No, absolutely not.

Mark broke out into a grin and waved excitedly. “Hyuck! Merry Christmas!”

Hyuck managed a wave before Chenle clapped his hands. “Now that we’re all here, let’s do presents! I’ve been waiting all day,” He complained.

Exchanging gifts was chaos personified. Or situation-ified. Whatever. Jaemin, despite having _asked_ Hyuck for a French to English dictionary, saw Jeno’s designer gloves to be of far more interest. Jeno was more than willing to share his gloves, as well as every single piece of candy that was gifted to him. Hyuck could never. He’d store that shit until doomsday and then die by a sugar rush.

Chenle and Jisung had cringed hard at his bucket hats, but all of them, including Mark, urged them to put them on. And just like Hyuck predicted, they looked _adorable._ Even though they were “sulking”, neither one of them took the hats off. Renjun immediately opened his pack of pens, tracing, drawing, sketching on anything that he could write on. Jeno kept an eye out on him specifically, since Renjun had a habit of carrying his drawings onto the floor.

Hyuck also received candy that he was not willing to share, and a Pokemon plushie. Squirtle to be exact. Renjun gifted him socks with Moomin on them so that he’d “never forget Renjun when he left the house”. Jeno gave him a mug with Spiderman swinging from building on it. He called it merch, and Hyuck was going to faint. _Merch._ They were going to capitalize off him. What a strange turn of events.

Mark gave him the most Mark thing ever: an album full of pictures they had taken all year. Hyuck quickly flipped through, and that brief exposure brought him so many emotions. In that one year, he had become a hero. In one year, he was friends with the most incredible group of kids. And in one year, he had met Mark. A lot had happened since.

As fate would have it, Hyuck’s gift to Mark was last. He pushed the box over to him, the note from the tall man tucked away into his pocket. Mark unwrapped it, the lid coming off. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. I don’t really know much about cameras anyway, I just thought it looked really cool, and the owner was kind of strange, but—” Hyuck rambled worried that Mark would actually hate it, but forced himself to shut up when Mark gently pulled the camera out.

Just like he envisioned, thin, nimble fingers rotated the device. Mark’s eyes devoured the thing, taking in each and every detail. Hyuck watched with admiration how carefully and gracefully Mark treated the camera, holding it like it was a live thing. “It’s beautiful,” He whispered, his hands fitting perfectly around it.

“You’re beautiful,” Hyuck responded without thinking. It earned him groans from everyone else, but Mark smiled shyly. Hyuck scooted closer until their knees were touching. “You really like it?”

“Love it.” Mark lifted it up and snapped a picture before Hyuck could move. He pulled the camera away and chuckled. “Cute.”

“Me? Cute?” He leaned in even closer, until his face was two inches away from Mark’s. Quickly, he pressed a kiss to Mark’s blushing nose. “Not when your button nose exists.”

“Lee Donghyuck, you will be the end of me,” Mark said in that husky voice Hyuck loved so much. His arms came up around Hyuck’s neck, and the next thing Hyuck knew was that they were on the floor, giggling and kissing, like kids on Christmas. Warmth spread everywhere Mark’s hands landed, and Hyuck felt a comfortable twist in his stomach. Bliss. He’d call it bliss.

“Get a room,” Someone groaned, but Hyuck, without looking up, hurled a pillow at the direction of the voice. An _oomph_ followed shortly afterwards.

It was Renjun tapping one of his new pens against his glass that finally brought back everyone’s attention. He lifted his little cup of cider, and Hyuck followed, one arm keeping Mark close. “To the New Year,” Renjun toasted, tipping his head back to drink.

“To us.” Mark clinked glasses with Hyuck, and Hyuck fell back into a rhythm of laughter, mirth, and love.

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to Morg who gave me the idea!! i know this was rushed (especially the ending rip) but uh let's ignore that :)  
> come talk to me on twitter! @moreeggstofry


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